


Spooked

by whilowhisp



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Anxiety, Fluff, M/M, Season of Arrivals, spoilers sorta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:40:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24892519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whilowhisp/pseuds/whilowhisp
Summary: Based off a series of lines spoken after the contact public event for Season of Arrivals. To say that Eris has him spooked is an understatement.
Relationships: The Drifter/Shin Malphur
Comments: 1
Kudos: 55





	Spooked

**Author's Note:**

> Since when do I write fluff without porn?

Alright, he was man enough to admit it: Eris had spooked him. Drifter hadn't expected to hear that name ever again, much less be addressed by it, and hearing it from the hive-voodoo princess, apropos nothing, yeah, he was spooked. His hands shook as he went through the practiced motions of rolling the coin across his fingers, but he couldn't get it quite right, and it fell to the floor with a loud, sharp noise.

The guardians had just filled up his bank, nice and proper, though they'd had trouble refining the haul. That was fine, can't win them all, and the nice, shiny bank full of darkness always sweetened his mood. Well, almost always. Now, he couldn't stop thinking about that fucking name.

He hadn't gone by Germaine for long. Just a couple of years, not even a decade, and he knew there wasn't a single Risen left alive that would know him by that name. Hell, more folk remembered Wu Ming and Eli than had ever known Germaine. So how had she known?

Hive magic probably, the kind that had her staring at him with three eyes in his nightmares, the kind that she'd given up her ghost for (he had to admire her will to live, and her will to sacrifice anything to do it). He'd seen her open up portals out of nothing, like tearing a rip in the fabric of reality, to get from the tower to the moon in seconds, she could chant and hold back the darkness, teleport the guardian out of hell and to safety.

Maybe her knowing his old name wasn't the thing he should be most worried about, she was scary enough as it was, but hell, he didn't feel right about it. What else did she know? She talked about the stars whispering his name… about the 'truth' seeking him out. He snorted, bristling. The truth could stay buried where it belonged.

"What's wrong?" He just about drew his gun at the voice behind him, as it stood he whipped around like maybe he was hearing ghosts again, but there stood Shin, real as any other day, leaning against the metal gate to his annex warehouse. Shin raised his hands in a placating, surrendering sort of way, but the casual smile on his tired face, half shadowed by his raised hood, just made Drifter's blood boil. He didn't need this right now. "Just me." His voice rasped against Drifter's nerves like sandpaper on his tongue, and he scoffed, turning his back to the door again. 

His spine prickled at the vulnerability of it, anxiety crawling up his spine and freezing his stomach. He pushed away from the railing to grab a few coins from the pot on his table and pocket them. He didn't know what to do with his hands, shaking as they were. Knowing his luck, he'd drop the coin again. Shin had already called him out on his behavior; he didn't need any more fuel. So, he went to the railing again, this time leaning his back on it to keep his eyes on Shin. Not once did Shin look away. It didn't make Drifter feel any better.

"What's got you in a mood?" Shin pushed off of the doorway and hooked his fingers around the bars of the door behind him, pulling it closed. The sound was violent in the quiet space, and Drifter couldn't help the way his hackles raised. 

Shin didn't even know about Germaine. Shin had personally met Wu Ming, Dredgen Hope, but never Germaine. Drifter's paranoia had its crooked little fingers in his brain, though, because all he could think about was the what-ifs. If Shin did know about Germaine, he'd probably know about Eaton, about his neighbor's kid, Yu, and Dryden. Drifter couldn't stop hearing Yu's last words in his head, "I can't feel anything" bouncing around and rattling his thoughts. Under his gloves, he could feel the sickening warmth of her blood and matted hair in his palm. He'd done card tricks for her, given her the first and last sip of moonshine she would ever taste when her parents weren't looking. 

"How many names you known me as, Shin?"

Shin raises an eyebrow, but that's all the reaction he got from the question. "Why?" Drifter tensed as Shin walked the short distance to stand in front of him, too close, their shoes nearly touching. When Drifter leans back to put some space between them, Shin's eyebrows furrow, "What happened?" A gloved hand reached out to touch Drifter's side so gently he barely felt it, and it was all at once too much. 

Drifter shoved past him with a sharp shoulder-check, muttering, "Get off me and answer the damn question." He hates how Shin makes him lose all of his careful control, how the man brought out all of those tells he tried to keep buried under the flash and charm.

Shin stepped away immediately, hands up again, and it just makes Drifter's blood boil. "All right… Wu Ming, Dredgen Hope, and the Drifter." There was no mocking tone in Shin's voice, he was almost careful with his words, and the scurrying rat of Drifter's suspicion got to his brain before any other conscious thought could.

"You sure about that? No other names?" He was back in Shin's space before he realized he’d even moved, so close they were breathing the same air, Shin's carefully even, controlled, and Drifter's harsh, almost panicked. "How the hell do I know that's the truth?" He hissed.

Shin practically insulted him by remaining calm, stoic, unaffected. Drifter wanted to shake him, punch him, pull Trust from his belt and fire into his stupid head, but the last time he tried that, he'd ended up on the floor, pinned down with all that swift strength. He didn't think he could handle that right now, but the thought was so tempting. 

"Because it's the truth."

"How the hell is that supposed to convince me? You've lied so many times; I ain't even sure which you is the truth at this point." Drifter's hands were balled up in Shin's cloak, cinched tight to Shin’s neck. Shin's indifference made Drifter's blood boil; he could hear his blood rushing in his ears to the beat of his pounding heart. He was going to burst apart at the seams at any moment.

Shin's hands came up to touch his wrists, but his grip was loose, gentle. It startled Drifter so much his grip loosened, and when Shin started rubbing soothing circles into his inner wrist, his shoulders slumped. How the hell was he supposed to stay pissed when all Shin was doing was looking at him, all soft eyes and worried frown.

He must have made some kind of expression because Shin's frown deepened, and he moved one hand from Drifter's wrist to the small of his back to reel him in. Drifter's forehead dropped to Shin's shoulder like it was too heavy to hold up anymore. It was easier than he liked to lean into Shin's hold, let his arms drop and let Shin wrap both arms around him, press soft, too sweet kisses to the side of his head.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" He spoke softly, just holding Drifter like he was something breakable, and no matter how much he wanted to hate it, rage against it, Drifter couldn't bring himself to care. When had he gotten so soft? When had he gotten so soft for Shin?

Drifter didn't answer, just hummed something noncommittal with his mouth pressed to Shin's shoulder. Shin didn't push it, just held him, and Drifter was thankful for it. He was stupidly grateful for how still they were, no swaying, and Shin didn't do any of the coddling, comforting touches Drifter spotted other couples doing in the bazaar. Nah, Shin just held him, sweeping his thumb back and forth at his spine, and Drifter could barely feel it through the layers of clothing. 

"Okay." Drifter could feel Shin's voice reverberate through where their chests touch, and he sighed, inexplicably tired. Maybe Shin was telling the truth. Maybe it was just Hive-space-magic-bullshit that had Eris speaking a long-dead name. Either way, it probably didn't matter. Shin probably didn't know about Yu.

Maybe Drifter would tell him that story someday...

Probably not.


End file.
